


Karol of the Bells (rewrite)

by othersin



Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Underswap, Christmas Story, Ecto-Genitalia (Undertale), Ecto-Penis (Undertale), Ecto-Tongue (Undertale), Ecto-Vagina (Undertale), F/F, F/M, Feminization, Fontcest, Forced Crossdressing, Gen, Humiliation, Kidnapping, Krampus - Freeform, M/M, Multi, Norse Mythology - Freeform, Size Kink, Swapcest - Freeform, Swapfell Sans, Underfell Papyrus, Underfell Sans, Underswap Papyrus, Underswap Sans, an agnostic trying her best to come up with a cool hell, germanic christmas, norse mythos referenced, pagan christmas characters, papyrus is krampus, toy making
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-11-28
Updated: 2017-12-19
Packaged: 2018-09-08 12:57:17
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 5
Words: 10,647
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8845957
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/othersin/pseuds/othersin
Summary: Sans was always told to be wary of the 6th of december, though not the reason. But when he finds the tall lanky monster with bells, chains and flaming horns -a blood red sack slung over his shoulder, grinning at him.Sans has been accidently kidnapped by a Krampus while the other was on the hunt for a child, but Sans is certain the other cannot keep him here. He is innocent, and hasn't done anything wrong - Sans has to get out of Hell before the new year begins or be stuck with the cruel monsters that call it home.





	1. It's beginning to feel a bit like christmas

* * *

Sans could feel the bite of the winter claws tear and pull at his scarf with every step he took in the winter wonderland called Snowdin, his chilling to the bone home. In his arms were tightly bound bundles of paper and what seemed to be mechanical plans – the monsters around him greeted one another gleefully, off to their daily chores to get ready for the big day coming up. But some fearful whispers of the 6th of December was mumbled about – Sans paid no attention to the strange mutterings, the fear seemed to ebb away quickly anyway with a new song echoing though the town.

Muffet and Grillby were busy creating mulled cider and spiced tea in large quantities for the towns own Christmas celebrations – drawing in the crowds as they brewed in the chill of the air. Sans smiled, and stared a little forlornly at the gathering of families, and friends - he would very much like to enjoy a glass of warming cider with someone but his dream job will come first.

Whites and vivid colours dazzled his sockets – the blinking of fairy lights was just as grand as the twinkling crystals in the caves of Waterfall.

Just seeing the milling of crowds just reaffirmed what Sans wanted, as working towards the royal guard will always come first. But Sans was certain his hard work will pay off – he just had to believe in himself.

Sans tightened his hold on the plans he had for puzzles and traps - eager to get out of the snow and show his latest puzzle plans to implement, they never chose his plans but he had a good feeling about today - the 6th of December is going to be a good day for him, and just in time for Christmas

 Sans pulled his scarf tighter and continued on his way – offering a cheerful hello to all the monsters he past but not stilling his stride.

 Christmas celebrations were in full swing – ever since Sans had lived, they always looked forward to this time of year; the distant chime of bells and the smell of pies seemed to make this place even merrier. The big polar bear was dragging a Christmas tree to the centre of the town

A few monster children ran around gleefully, causing all kind of mischief. Gerson grumbled angrily as they almost balled into him - forcing him to shake his walking stick at them.

 Yes, their realm was open to explore and play in – but it wasn’t always like that, the veil between humans and monster has been in place ever since Sans had been born but while physically they couldn't interact; the imagination of the humans had to be commended.

 The realm of monsters and magic had long since become a treasure trove of stories for the humans that lived beyond their veil – put in place by the humans to stop the monsters from escaping into their territory. But allowing humans if they find the way in to enter.

 The queen and king had adopted a human child who had gotten trapped, falling from the surface, becoming a sibling to their own son, but like all the others – they longed to return eventually. But the human was stolen away - they seemed to disappear from the underground completely. The queen and king soon fell to a deep despair at the loss of their child, but refused to give up looking for them.

Their son, Asriel had taken the others disappearance hard and perished of a broken heart – being buried under a garden of buttercups. Asriel before his passing had gotten obsessed with old magic and lore, trying to find something to help him find his kin - the 6th of December was the day Asriel's soul gave out.

It was only recently that the queen had returned to celebrate the festivities, though still sombre - the king had taken over his son’s research and left the limelight for good.

 Sans was making his way to the sentry station by the ruins to show Alphys and Undyne his plans for a few puzzles that would surely make the day of a few monster children during this festive season – Sans grinned as the sentry post came into view but freezing at seeing it empty.

"I thought she is normally here at this time?" Sans mumbled out, shrugging with a grin, " I guess I’ll just wait for her here."

Sans noticed how quiet it was, the dark winter stripped trees and the vivid green of the pines were the only colour popping in the white background - peacefully quiet, Sans span around gleefully staring at the falling snowflakes. Sans took a deep breathe, in the chill he could see it - seeing in spiral for a little bit, watching it disappear completely. Sans didn’t know what possessed him, but he followed the wild and overgrown path though the winding skeletal forest, seeming to go ever deeper till he reached the ancient looking stone door. Sans stared at the large looming stone doors to the old, forgotten ruins – looking like a very scene of those colourful illustrated books of the humans, etched deep in the stone was a large and deeply rooted tree. A serpent weaved its long body though the roots – its scales surely once gilded and its ruby set eyes had long since been stolen away. The strangest thing about these ornate doors, they seemed to not be doors at all but smoothed and carved stone of the cavern wall.

The doors looming though the forest was majestic but Sans could feel his eyes draw drawn to the slumping figure – huge cloven, skeletal hooves were stretched out and deadly looking. Sans stared warily at the unknown monster, taking in the ragged looking clothes and the crimson red sack that was squirming and murmuring like muffled screams.

The lanky monster seemed to be snoozing peacefully, clawed hand on the large, twitching, crimson sack. It was tried securely with golden ribbon with faint rune markings all over it – the monster was skeletal in appearance with an occasionally twitching tail, perhaps the other was dreaming of sugar plums and snow angels but with the others demonic appearance, the heavy scent of ash and brimstone lingered around the other like a thick cloud.

 He seemed to have a sooty, torn outfit – the fur on his jacket looked stained and a duller colour than it should’ve been. The other had barbed ram horns growing from the crown of his skull, cruelly twisting and ridged – a small floating, orange flame was flickering in cold gusts but never going out. It was cradled in his horns, spirals of smoke seemed to curl around him and up into the snowflakes falling from above.

 Sans could feel his soul flutter in fright at the sudden sound of a rusty, old chain – tangled from the others leg mix with the faint tingle of a bell hooked onto the others horn fill the empty space as the other shifted from his deep sleep. Taking a step back but stilling at the sound of a child like sob – coming from the very depths of the sack.

Sans stared at the sack, hands trembling – the blueprints of the puzzle he was so looking forward to showing the king and queen had been left forgotten in the snow, becoming ever more sodden. Sans’s attention solely was on the sack.

What if they were hurt? What if they needed help?

Sans shot a look back at the path, knowing that he should try and find some help rather than take on this mysterious monster himself, but if he did, what was stopping the other from leaving? He tried to scan the others stats but the moment he did, the numbers and symbols were nothing he could even recognise. It’s most certainly not wingdings but something else completely different.

Sans looked to the sleeping horned skeleton – he seemed to be in a deep sleep and the grip on the sack was slack. Sans took a breath and began to slowly walk towards the other as the crying got even louder, he got close enough to pull the sack gently from the others hand – watching as it fell limply by the others side, not showing signs of awareness.

Sans pulled the cord open, only to by met with an endless blackness - though jumping back, and then stumbling, landing on his rear on the wet powdery snow and slush when the muffled murmurs turned into full blown laughter. An elongated wooden doll, with stiff limbs and a spring as a neck – horrid face painted crudely with a wide smile and a rosy blush seemed to spring forth, like a jack in a box at the poor small skeleton.

The whirling, heaving sound of its disembodied laughter filled the forest – and the slumping figure seemed to stir, the faint tinkering of sled bells was heard as he shifted; lanky and clumsy limbs shifted making Sans scoot back desperately but the snow was making it hard for him to find traction.

The piecing silt of orange filled the others sockets, the light seemed narrow and horizontal at first - appearing like the odd looking pupil of a goat or an octopus. Sans pulled himself up – using his momentum to not slide or slip down again, turning and  running for his life, his take flight notion overcoming his fight.  Sans was terrified, but unsure why – the others demeanour just screamed danger, he left the strange monster to stare a little blearily and amused at the fleeing monster – turning his attention to the doll, pushing the writing wooden toy back into the blackened depths of his crimson sack.

* * *

 

He stood to his full height slowly, and his eyes glowed like hot orange embers – similar to the one floating about his crowning horns. Lazy smirk pulling at his skull and smoke seemed to escape up into the air from his nose as he exhaled slowly in the freezing air, his toothy maw opening slightly as a long forked tongue began to make its move – orange coloured, and winding in the air like a snake, surely he could scent the air like one too.

As an ancient monster, it was rare for him to have the taste for the unsoiled and innocent – besides his demonic appearance he was hardly the worst Hell could conjure up, but, the monster thought with a filthy grin and the lewd licking of his teeth; this was such a busy season for him and it had been so long since he treated himself.

Hell, it was almost Christmas after all.

* * *

 

Sans wildly looked behind him, puffing harshly, finding that he wasn’t being followed by the strange monster – the clank of chains was heard just then behind him, Sans spun around to where the sound came from but seeing nothing, backing away only to hit something far too warm to be a tree. A rich chuckle was heard behind him, and long bony arms entrapped him gently but the limbs felt almost scalding to the touch.

“You will most certainly join me and my family for our Christmas feast...” The voice whispered, slippery wetness of the others tongue dragged briefly against the shorter skeletons neck - the demon like creature was almost a giant compared with Sans's slight build, making certain he couldn't squirm away from the searing tongue. 

  The whole world went sideways and dark for Sans– as the monster had swung his crimson sack over his body, as soon as the fabric was pulled under his feet, the sensation of gravity reversing and tugging at the small skeletons feeble body briefly confused him but made him almost pass out in panic.

 Sans began to fall into nothingness.

* * *

 

 

 

 


	2. all I want from christmas is you

* * *

Sans didn’t know for how long he was falling – but in the inky blackness he could feel the curling of cold, wooden hands pull and tug him further down, until he finally reached the bottom of the bag. At least he thought he was in the bag still – face planting into something soft and smelling of musty old leather, like the scent you get when you wonder aimlessly into a shoe shop but with the tanners smell lingering too. Sans pulled his self unsteadily up from the soft mountain, shifting and sinking under his weight, knees trembling and bowed as he tried to maintain his balance on his squishy landing.

Sans stared confused in the blackness – his sockets were trying to get used to the darkness, the darkness barely lighting up with the use of his baby blue coloured eye lights.

From the odd mountain he had landed on, he carefully peeked over the edge to see the fiery glow at the foot of the peak. It seemed to be a large furnace with an iron wrought gate – a large glowing hot flame cast eerie orange light on this curved stone room, the flames behind the iron gate of the furnace seemed to breathe and wheeze like instead of a large furnace it was a large dragon sleeping amongst its treasure.

 Sans blinked at the only light in the room, drawn to it like a moth to the bright flame – the lumps by the stove, at first he thought it was coal or wood but he was wrong when his knees finally gave out, landing on his hands and knees – trying to stop himself from rolling down the precarious top, hand clasping around a small item that made up his unsteady footing.

 With shaking hands, Sans lifted up the soft object in better light – only to fling it away with a quickly muffled scream, it tumbled down the mountain of dusty shoes – becoming lost in the similar objects piled high.

 All the shoes were in children’s sizes – the pale ballet slipper tumbled gracefully down as well as taking a few more with it, reaching the iron stove as Sans struggled to stand again.

 Sans could feel his soul beating heavily in his chest, unsure if he should take the chance to venture down the morbid mountain of shoes – centuries worth possibly, full of dust and ash which when he pushed down, clouds of it escaped causing Sans to splutter and cough.

 A low creak of a heavy door sounded, Sans, in a panic to hide had slipped down in between the piles of old shoes; forcing himself to go as low as he could in the disgusting leather trying to hide.

 He saw a silhouette by the door, the furnace making the shadows looming and huge but Sans was able to briefly peek through his fingers that covered his sockets, only to see it was an comically short and stout figure stalk in – the light sound of bells sounded with every step the other took. Besides the horns that adorned the others head, the other seemed to be a very similar build to Sans.

 And the grumpy mumbling from the new monster followed his clip-clopping steps,

 “I can’t believe this…just because I’m smaller then them and with smaller horns they think they can push me around.”

 The figure snarled mouth sharp and in a cruel expression – piecing purple eyes narrowed in fury, old scars seemed to crease his socket. Sans saw the short stubby horns protruding from his skull and a short curled tail looking as though it was an extension of his spinal cord.

 Clothes dark and with fur trim seemed to be the fashion of the demon like monsters, or like in Snowdin they were stuck in a constant winter. Even with the huge furnace in the room, the cold still clung to Sans’s bones in an unnatural way.

 Sans watched in interest as the other irately picked up a dirty looking shovel that had been leaning against the black iron of the furnace, he unlatched the large iron grate with a flick of a sharp claw and began to shovel the lost shoes into the flames – the small demon seemed lost in his thoughts; stomping a cloven hoof, kicking up some ash and dust.

“I know I was the last born of the  world tree, but frankly I am far more capable then Papyrus and Fell…Papyrus sleeps when he should be working and Fell wants to “punish” his sweaty, little, mortal toy most of the time.”

 That comment seemed to be far more bitter and sour – as if the little devil was jealous of his elder brothers attention to someone he considers lesser.

  The little horned beast lamented, watching the little shoes burn and the putrid smell of burning leather and rubber filled the furnace room, well, the long pipe carried the heat it seemed far above them, Sans could only assume it was to heat the demons home – but using shoes as fuel was a little unheard of.

 “I can’t believe Mother won’t weave my own sack, I’m mature enough already – I don’t need to wait for my 500th year!” The demon stomped again, but Sans couldn’t stop the start at the mention of the age of the demon.

 If the demon had to wait for his 500th year, how old is he? And how old was the creature that kidnapped him? What is this place?

 The demon stilled, turning head to the mountains of shoes suddenly – sniffing loudly like a dog trying scent out  a delicious meal…the beast smirked, causing Sans to quickly dip behind his hiding spot again.

 “Is someone there?” The other chimed lowly, walking towards the piles of shoes. Sans covered his mouth – not wanting to take any chances.

“I can smell your fear….” Sans could hear the others twisted grin in that tone of voice – dangerously playful but at the same time alluring. Coming even closer to where Sans was hiding, even with the others hooves it seemed he had no problem walking through the mass of shoes – Sans could see the tips of the others soot covered fingers begin to reach out to the pile that he hid behind...

 “BLACKBERRY!” A booming voice broke the others concentration, fingers twitching and then recoiling into a fist. Blackberry took a step back, withdrawing away but Sans was not going to let out a sigh of relief just yet.  The sharp tone was enough to startle the demon.

 “For the last time –DON’T CALL ME BLACKBERRY!” Blackberry snarled out to the voice – eyes flashing dangerously.

“You need to go to the coal mines – I’m sick of supervising the little brats!” the voice called back, irate.

“I thought you enjoyed the tears and screams of children Fell.” Blackberry huffed with a laugh. The raspy voice seemed to echo out from the outside halls – the dragging of chains was heard as it seemed they had the habit to shift from foot to foot when agitated.

“Seriously, if you don’t come I may kill them all…”  The unknown Fell snapped back quickly.

“Don’t you dare – Mother will fray me alive if any more of those brats perish…” Blackberry began, “She’ll make me grow skin and organs and then flay me!”

 Shaking his head, but with the way the small demon described such a gory punishment, made Sans feel like the other was speaking from past experience. Blackberry glared back at the pile of shoes Sans was trembling by and then glared back at the exit.

“Fine – don’t pull any of their teeth out, I’m coming.” Blackberry gave up his hunt but turned to the piles of shoes, a promised darkly, “Till next time, my shy dear.”

 

Blackberry leapt gracefully off the shoes, barely unsettling them – moving expertly like an mountain goat though rocky terrain, till the clip-clopping of the others bony hooves against the boiler room floor.

 

The uneven steps of the other moved back outside – shutting the door and then locking it with a click. Sans jumped up, partially running and sliding down the shoes as he rushed to the door – trying to force it open by shoving it with his shoulder, unable to leaving him to pitifully bang at it with a closed fist.

Sans slid down the door, pitifully sobbing, unable to escape.

 

It felt like hours before the sound of time and space crackled alive – the tall figure that had captured him appeared before him, landing more gracefully where Sans fell earlier, more experienced possibly. His tail swung side to side lazily – staring stunned at the small monster staring wearily at him, did he forget about him?

“What will you do to me…?” Sans hugged his legs tighter to his chest and sobbed.

“Oh – I don’t know, a little of this, a little of that…I rarely plan these things out.” The other muttered, rubbing the back of his head. Sliding down the mountain of misplaced shoes like he was surfing down a wave of shoes,

 “I feel like I should say, I’m not the type of guy to sack a cutie before buying them a drink first but...” The tall demon began awkwardly, tail swishing side to side, orange flame filled sockets stared at the cowering monster.

 "I have friends, people will miss me…" Sans warned lowly to the other as the other got ever closer.

His kidnapper snorted, making his way closer.

"No you don’t, you don’t have family, you don’t have friends and you most certainly won’t have people miss you."  The other drawled out lowly, causing Sans to flush in anger and embarrassment.

“STAY BACK!” Sans bellowed, flinging forward a hand to summon forth a barrage of bones – but not even a tiny spark of magic escaped him, Sans stared confused at his hand and pressed harder against the door.

“Yeah, I forgot to mention, any magic you had in Midgard is dialled back down to zero – do you know how troubling it would be if those who have been taken still had access to their magic.” The demon tilted his head at the other.

 “I do have friends.... I fail to see what has warranted such treatment.” Sans snapped back, fear shifting to righteous anger – his ire increasing when the other yawned loudly, canines with slight points being shown…and the orange glow of the others tongue. Long and serpent like, it seemed to be folded onto it to be more manageable when the other was talking or not needing it at full length.

 “What exactly... are you?” Sans narrowed his sockets at the other.

 “I’m a Krampus, well at least one of them…a seasonal demon, my name is Papyrus however.’ The Christmas demon called Papyrus grinned, “Surely you’ve heard stories of me.”

Sans looked dully at the other. The others tail drooped a little at the others dim expression.

“Krampus – the shadow, the punisher of the wicked…you’ve never heard of us?”

“No, I haven’t.” Sans snapped at the other.

“No one told you to be wary of the 6th of December, the night before was _Krampusnacht_?” Papyrus continued vaguely aghast.

“No one gave me a reason to…” Sans mumbled out.

“On Krampusnacht, I arrive and on that night I chase wicked mortals to start the season...though, I suppose with the separation of monster and humans that warning wouldn’t travel as fast...” Papyrus continued thoughtfully, stroking his chin.

“I’m not wicked!” Sans snapped at the other, papyrus pulled a loose thread from his jacket – flicking his orange eyes to the cowering figure.

“Sure, you’re a saint.” Papyrus winked at the other, reaching to grab the other with a toothy grin, ‘Don’t worry, just play along – you might even enjoy it…” Sans slapped the others claws away.

“Feisty...I like it.” Papyrus cooed shaking his slapped hand, “Though anything would be better than snivelling brats.”

“No, I’m not a saint but I’m not wicked!’ Sans huffed out, “And you can’t keep me here without me being wicked.”

Papyrus frowned, staring deep in thought at the smaller skeleton. Sans stared back, gaze unwavering.

“Oh.” Papyrus snorted out in amusement, ‘Well, if you are certain of your innocence…let me see your soul.”

Sans pressed himself against the wall harder, placing a hand over his hidden soul,

“What…?” Sans muttered dumbly, flushing, while Papyrus lazily grinned, his tail swaying side to side.

“Show me your soul – let’s see how innocent you are…” Papyrus repeated with a lewd smirk. Sans clenched at his sooty jacket, hand clenching in the warm fabric – the soul of a monster was the very core of the monsters being, and conceded a sacred thing; also shared between two monsters that wish to initiate a soul bond.

 It was basically spiritual marriage for two monsters to partake in such a thing, and was not to be taken lightly or in their stride.

 “If you see I’m innocent...will you return me back to Snowdin?” Sans began lowly, not trusting the other at all but what choice did the small monster have?

 “I promise no harm will come to you.” Papyrus said, but wasn’t promising the others return to, what the demon called the underground? Midgard?

 But what else could Sans do, the other was much stronger, larger and still had his own magic that he hadn’t shown yet – the demon didn’t need to use magic on monsters he could physically overpower and the other didn’t seem that keen to burn any energy he didn’t have to.

 Sans let out an anxious breath, and with trembling hands and blank sockets did he summon the brightly glowing inverted white heart from his chest – Papyrus stared at the floating soul in a mix of awe and desire.

 “Fine, now do souls scan.” Sans huffed, the amount of magic he could still access caused a light blush to appear on his skull in embarrassment.

Papyrus seemed to still at that, flicking his orange eye lights back to the trembling owner of the soul – he smirked, his long serpentine tongue unfolding and extending out slowly.

 “Soul scan? I guess that’s what monsters on Midgard do...I prefer doing a soul taste, a much more accurate reading in my opinion.” Papyrus said cheerfully, reaching forward and pinning the other so the smaller skeleton couldn’t squirm away as his long tongue inched ever closer to the others fluttering soul.

* * *

 

Bad papy! Krampus has been described with a long tongue - there will be more mention of it. 


	3. sugar plums

Sans stood there trembling under the others gaze – showing your soul to another was intimate and often reserved for lovers or in emergencies, but the others use of the word ‘taste’ made Sans want to flee.

The demons eye lights flashed a fiery orange as he took the others stunned stillness to pin the other harder against the wall.

“Sorry but you gotta stay still.” Papyrus said curtly, though Sans doubted very much that apology was genuine, “ But if you sever the connection during the tasting, you will become nothing more than a hollow husk – mortals without souls can’t return from Hel then, no matter how ‘innocent’ they are.”

Sans could feel the tears gathering in the corner of his sockets, pressing himself deeper in the wall – willing for the wall to absorb him and whisk him away. Sans only turned his eye lights, not willing to watch the others forked, snake like tongue finally make its way to the almost viscous surface of his soul – the sensation of something sharp and ice like pieced his soul was faintly felt.

 The slight pain of entry made Sans twitch though it seemed to ebb away, the coldness was replaced with a warm and now borderline searing heat. In that moment Sans had the feeling of old forgotten memories and less than charming or judging thoughts the small skeleton ever had about himself or the other members of Snowdin being fished out from how deep he had buried them, being fished out by the others long winding tongue - like a writhing fish on a hook.

 When the flash of a recalled memory, a part of his life he had tried to forget was brought bubbling to the surface was when Sans’s eye lights flashed open and in alarm – tears gathered in the corners of his sockets.

 “There.” The demon said finally, softly and soothing, after what had felt like forever, tongue had folded back into the others mouth – letting Sans go, which the smaller skeleton slid down the door; silently crying. Tears falling down the others face without the others control or will to stop it.

 Sans sat in silence, and the only movement from the large demon was the lazy swish of his tail – Papyrus had quite a sombre expression on his face,

“If it’s in any consolidation, that creature in that memory is somewhere where there is no chance of escape.” Papyrus said, shifting on his hooves.

“ Know you see...” Sans looked tearfully to the demon, “I don’t belong here...”

Papyrus’s expression hardened at that, whatever decision the other had come too had already been decided on it seems.

 “A Krampus doesn’t make mistakes.’ Papyrus said, “Your soul is screaming in regret, remorse and a particular sin in particular.”

 “Yeah, what is that?” Sans challenged, wiping at his sockets angrily.

“Envy.” Papyrus said, "The want of something you could never have, or something you believed you should've had - children had been taken for a lot less."

“You’re a liar.” Sans sniffled.

“I am many things, but a liar is not one of them.” Papyrus defended himself.

 “C’mon, you’ll feel better by letting it go and just go with the flow here – it can’t get any worse than this.” Papyrus gestured wildly to their hellish surroundings.

“Yes, I have found myself envious – of friends, family and many things I never had. But what creature hasn’t?” Sans demanded of the other and then asking, “Is that really worth kidnapping me?’

“If I didn’t, you would’ve been alone with just your thoughts this Christmas – and how long before your thoughts would’ve devoured you.” Papyrus hummed, "I saw your thoughts, it would only take another lonely Christmas to be pushed over the edge."

“...” Sans was silent at that.

“Well, that’s enough of that gloom and doom.” Papyrus said cheerfully.

“What?” Sans muttered quietly, not liking the others expression.

Papyrus grabbed the other by the scarf harshly, pulling the other closer to his grinning face.

“I get to say who gets bagged – and the moment I saw you, I couldn’t just let you leave and spend Christmas all alone.” Papyrus grinned, and flung the skeleton roughly over his shoulder – Sans kicking desperately and pulling at the others fur lined jacket, the bells on his clothes jiggled in the others movement.

“Now, I think you deserve a tour.” Papyrus added gleefully – moving to open the door.

 Sans’s screams was silenced by a wad of leather scraps that was shoved in his mouth by the demon.

* * *

 

 Sans had ceased his kicking and screaming after a good long hour – the long winding hallways were shrouded in darkness, his kidnapper mindlessly chatting away. Sans could only say that they were no longer in the underground, in the pure white kingdom of the winter. This place didn’t have any warmth, the darkness and burning cold torches seemed to suck away any warmth – Sans was thrown off the others back though, falling roughly against the stone floor. Papyrus dragged the smaller skeleton to the side – keeping the other partially hidden by the corridors pillars.

Sans  to spat out his gag and was going to demand the other on what was going on, but stopped when the other warily began to look around and scent the air. As though he heard something or smelt something dangerous lurking in the halls of this hellish stone palace.

Sans narrowed his eyes and carefully began to crawl away from the other – only to head butt into something, or more or less someone. Blackberry stared down at little skeleton in disgust, Sans scampered back as quickly as he tried to escape – Papyrus noticed the confrontation seemed to have the air distort around him as he seemed to teleport , acting as a wall between the little demon and his prize.

“I knew it!” Blackberry crowed triumphantly, pointing a claw at the cowering mortal and glaring furiously at the tall demon, Papyrus looked unfussed by the manic laughing of the younger demon – the smaller demons own short stubby horns cradled wisps of ice cold magic beginning to swirl and crust his skull with ice. The demonic magic was reacting to the others rage it seemed, leaving Papyrus to stare warily at his furious little brother.

“Knew what?” Papyrus muttered.

“You took a mortal again!” Blackberry jabbed the other painfully with his claw, only to have his hand grabbed by the taller demon. Sans gave a start at the word ‘Again’.

“It’s my job to take mortals…” Papyrus started to placate, “I was simply taking him to the workshop.”

“Then why did you send him in the furnace room…you’re supposed to send them straight to Mother for her to determine where he goes!” Blackberry cried out – tail not as long as his brothers but is seemed to twitch in the others anger, furious like an irate kitten

“Now, Mother is under a lot of stress because the fight between her and father – I didn’t want to worry her.” Papyrus shrugged when he gave an answer.

“Fucking liar!” Blackberry snarled, puffing out his chest to seem more intimidating – but it didn’t really intimidate the other.

 “You wanted to hide him away, keep him in your chambers!” Blackberry accused.

Sans sockets widened at that, but slowly narrowed at the fighting demons.

“Of course not – that would be wrong!” Papyrus shouted out, for his brother and Sans to hear – Blackberry just scoffed at that declaration.

“Oh please, you’re just pissed that Fell wouldn’t share his toy with you – you always were the most fascinated with them, kidnapping a mortal and keeping it off the books and right under the nose of Mother!” Blackberry’s magic continued to ice over the hall and floor.

“You need to calm down; you’re probably scaring him…” Papyrus changed the subject, Blackberry sneered,

‘I think it is a little too late for that now.’ Blackberry gestured to the empty hall behind him – Sans had taken the opportunity to run away during the demons fight.

“You did that on purpose.” Papyrus snarled at the smaller demon. "This one is different."

Blackberry bristled at that added comment, but turned on his hoof.

“It’s time for your just desserts.” Blackberry huffed, strutting away, “Looking forward to you trying to explain it to Mother when he is found.”

* * *

 

 Sans ran as hard as he could, panic fuelling him – hearing Papyrus calling out his name forced him to exit though a door leading off from the hall. It appeared to be a bedroom, the room was overly ornate and seemed to be styled off a doll house – all the items of furniture in a mix of styles and carved wood, with a welcoming fireplace with a mantle fill of odd nick-knacks one would put out for Christmas.

Sans stilled though, in seeing another smallish skeleton chained to the bed with a bell on his collar – Sans rushed forward, in seeing that the other was sleeping. Sans went with a trembling hand to wake the other up only to have the others eyes flash a blood red and stared at him.

 “Who the hell are you?” The other said, annoyed and a little confused – sounding groggy.

 “Sans…my name is Sans.” Sans said gently, the gold chain of the collar glinting in the light of the flames.

“…” The other seemed to take a moment to take Sans in, the stiffness easing and becoming more relaxed; probably realising the other wasn’t going to harm him or wasn’t a demon.

 “And what’s your name?” Sans asked gently.

 “Red…or at least that’s what he calls me.” Red hummed, eyes still a little unfocused.

“Did he kidnap you too?” Sans asked, there was another mortal kidnapped after all, if Blackberry was to be believed – was he the other one?

“Yes and no.” Red twitched, eye shifting quickly to the snow globe nestled in branches of holly and pine on the mantle of the fireplace, “It’s a little complicated.”

The faint sound of rustling ash was heard, the rattling of chains too- Red stared at the fireplace, noticing that the fire was flickering.

“You’ve got to hide.” Red said quickly.

“Where?” Sans asked, looking wildly around.

“In the closet, quickly – don’t let him see you!” Red said, gesturing to the tall amour by the wall.

Sans paused for just a moment but heeded the others advice, going into the closet – the door just open a crack as he began to hold his breath.

More ash filled the fireplace, the fire completely snuffed out – it was a few more moments till long bony claws began to claw out on the bricks and tiles of the fireplace.

A tall figure continued to pull and claw out with ease, looking very similar to Papyrus though seeming to appear a little older, sterner. He seemed to be wearing tarnished and sooty armour with a long winding tail, wagging in irritation – like Blackberry he had cloven hooves but it seemed he had metal grafted on the bone. Like the others he didn’t seem to bother with shoes but looked to have metal caps on the tips of them with painful looking spikes welded on.

He had a impressive set of winding ram horns, with strings of bells winded around them – it seemed the Krampus’s took pleasure in the mortals hearing them, the fear those usually joyful bells brought may be the reason why they were not silent, a calling card for mortals to be aware.

His jagged grin stretched wider as took in the restrained skeleton on the canopy bed,

“Honey, I’m home…” He called out in an almost endearing tone.  The threatening demon walked closer, tongue rolling out – stretching out to lick the others face.

* * *

 


	4. can you hear the bells?

 

* * *

Red barely flinched at the wetness of the others tongue – used to this treatment it seemed. Sans could see the other flush a little – did the other like it?

“Did you have to chain me up here…?”, Red said at the tall demon, this one seemed bulkier than Papyrus and more scar ridden – under his armour was odd little burns or tattoos poking out and winding around his ivory bones, like the winding and coiling of a snake.

“Ever since you wondered out that one time, and you went and got yourself seen by the burning heap of trash which is my brother…." Fell growled out, sockets flashing dangerously, he began crawling up on the bed – eye lights blazing.

“Jealous? I didn’t mean to be seen – I thought the others knew about me, why are you hiding me away?” Red huffed but then asked, “I just wanted to see the ‘Mother’ you speak so fondly of.”

Fell visibly shuddered, and seemed to shrink into himself a little – he seemed a little afraid of the woman he called mother, Sans could understand the fear a parent could instill into a child all too well

Sans frowned at the term of endearment again, remaining hidden and beginning to question this strange matriarchy – hearing the term ‘Mother’ in both fear and child like adoration from the three demons was an odd contradiction.

When Sans thought of the title ‘Mother’ – the first monster that sprung to mind was the Queen Toriel, she was a kind and noble leader. A symbol of generosity and sacrifice – to Sans the Queen was the caretaker of all monsters, imagining a Toriel like character was a mother to these beasts…was hard and made his skull hurt.

“Christmas day, Mother would love you as a surprise dinner guest…’ Fell smirked a little, unable to contain how odd it must sound from a demon, a mother of demons getting ready for a feast of saints like other monsters – rolling cookies, cutting vegetables, stuffing a goose and steaming a pudding bejewelled with rummy fruit, sugar crusted berries and mint leaves

“Are you certain she will not cook me instead?” Red lowly snarled – Fell just laughed at that.

“She might, depends how much a bore you are to chat to – she is no beldam to dinner guests…usually.” Fell continued, ignoring the smaller monsters displeased expression.

Red winced a little at how the other continued to groom him like a cat – it seemed the others long red tongue had small barbs too, catching and rubbing against the others bone uncomfortably.

“Fell…” Red hissed, trying to avert his face – but Fell has successfully pushed his tongue into the others slightly ajar mouth, Red gagged and was struggling to breath.

Sans stared in an odd combination of fascination and disgust when he could see the crimson tongue travel though the others magically conjured throat, Red’s own magic had a crimson sheen that bulged a little when the intruding tongue forced itself down his throat and wiggling around as it entered his heaving ribcage.

 Sans was about to jump out and assist the poor monster only to have a sharp knock bring Fell to a stop – removing his tongue quickly, shifting his legs to try and lessen the strain of his throbbing member against his tight leather pants.

Red was bright red, and was coughing and spluttering when the other removed himself – looking somewhat ashamed at his own aroused state, Sans tried to look anywhere but the other mortal but found his eyeline follow the demon called Fell. Fell’s tail was swishing in agitation as he went to answer the door. Sans opened the door of the amour he was hiding in a little more, Red noticed – alarmed, and began to furiously gesture with his head for the other to return to hiding.

The knocks covered up the slight sound of the wardrobe creaking – even more so with the frantic rapping of knuckles against thick wood. Fell pulled it open roughly, revealing the sightly slouching form of Papyrus. The others lanky body was projecting nervousness with his own tail hanging limp between his legs, but he raised a hand in greeting to the taller demon with the winding ram horns.

“Weed bag, you better have a good reason to interrupt me…”

“Hello, Fell, I see you woke up on the wrong side of brimstone pit today…” Papyrus began, “And I must say your horns today…look magnificent – me and Blackberry were just chatting the other day about how…um…” Papyrus peeked over the larger demons build to the restrained small skeleton. Red’s eyes looked wildly around and furrowing a little confused at the other demon

“Virile?” Red offered.

“Yes, how virile and well hung they make you look - as a true Krampus can be!”

Fell’s sour expression did not change at the others attempted flattery, and looked ready to close the door and continue his fun with his mortal lover once again.

 “Brother, your flattery means very little when it is forced, I didn’t give you my list to slack off and give me a bad name!” Fell went to slam the door, only to stop the door by wedging his leg to stop it.

 Red shot a glance towards the dark wood of the amour while Fell continuously slammed the door onto his brother’s leg.

 Fell began to hiss at his brother when he would not back down, which normally would make his younger brothers back off (it worked on Blackberry too, but when threatened the little demon would puff out his chest and chatter back at him) – it was not in a demon’s nature to go up against another who could very well have their skull cracked by a sharp head butt with the thick ram horns.

 Blackberry was the only exception to that rule, he was still mothers little baby – and it would not do any good for anyone if mum was in a bad mood.

 “Blackberry hasn’t come by has he?” Papyrus asked anxiously, orange eyes catching on the small red skeleton – only to be slapped roughly by Fell for staring.

 “No, he hasn’t!” Fell snarled, “Is that seriously all you came to ask me?”

 “No – he knows about the mortal you took…” Papyrus said, rubbing his cheekbone.

Red tensed at that, and glared at the two demons talking about him – Fell shot a sidelong glance to the mortal in his bed.

“The mortal I took, deserves what he gets and more …” Fell snarled, and Red curled into himself more.

 “Well, you always bragged about the mortal…” Papyrus explained himself slowly.

“Yes?” Fell asked, patience wearing thin.

“So, I took one for myself.” Papyrus laughed.

“You what?” Fell asked quietly.

“I took one.” Papyrus said again.

“YOU WHAT!?” Fell screeched, causing Papyrus to flinch.

 “If Blackberry tells on us, to mother” Papyrus warned lowly.

 “Us? No, my dear brother – you are on your own.” Fell snorted, returning to his efforts to force the other out to continue his games with Red.

 “Well, if you didn’t skimp on your duties to play with your little mortal toy…”

 Fell finally pulled open the door; Papyrus went to rub his leg in pain.

 “How mad do you think Mother will be with you for giving me your list to complete as well?” Papyrus asked carefully, rubbing his bruised leg.

 “…” Fell narrowed his eyes at the other, Papyrus grinned nervously at him.

 “Where is the mortal you took?” Fell finally asked.

 “Here’s the thing – I lost him.” Papyrus grinned uncomfortably.

 Fell pushed Papyrus out roughly and pulling the door closed roughly, ignoring his startled cry – slowly turning back to Red, Red matched the others gaze; though nervous sweat beaded his skull. Fell slowly turned his attention to the amour with the slightly ajar door.

 The static in the air seemed to increase around the demon as he stalked towards the closet – Red tried not to stare worriedly at the closet at all, staring at the wall instead and how the door shook with the increased rattling of the bedroom door with the other demon hitting it trying to get back inside.

 Fell reached the closet, tail twitched twice before he flung open the door – the force of which made the doors bang against its large sides. Reds soul jumped in his chest as the tall demon reached inside – Red covered his sockets, unable to deal with watching what was about to happen.

* * *

 

“You should wear this sometime.” Fell said, pulling out a skimpy red and white outfit – showing it to the small monster on the bed. Red stared confused, though skull turning a bright red at the sight of the festive get up that the demon must have snuck in the other day.

It was the colours of a candy cane and seemed to smell of sticky peppermint – it is quite possibly the first edible costume Red has and ever will want to stare at again.

“Huh?” Red stared confused at the “cute” getup.

Fell returned the costume back to the closet and strutted towards the door, opening it and going towards his brother – whose usual carefree expression seemed oddly strained,  whinging his hands together. Fell simply grabbed the other by the back of his neck roughly to drag the younger demon away who yelped loudly – Fell shared a last-minute gaze at the other, winking and slamming the door shut with his tail.

A loud click was heard making Red’s face fall – he was locked in again.

“Kid?” Red whispered out, almost desperately – only to stifle a scream at the hand grabbing his arm from under the bed.

Sans slid from out under the bed, covered in dust and what appeared to be a lost sock and a torn stocking – using the others arm to help himself up, looking as pale and sick as Red felt.

“Thank god, I thought he was going to get you.” Red sighed, flopping on the bed

“Yeah…when he was distracted I crawled out.” Sans muttered quietly, and moved quickly to the iron loop that held the chain to see if it could be undone.

 “I see you ran into some of the “family” already…” Red muttered, still blushing mostly out of shame.

“Yeah - the little brother, the middle brother and now the big brother.” Sans couldn’t help the tiny snort at that, pulling at the ring, “It is like the billy goats gruff…”

“But who is the ogre in this situation?” Red questioned gravely. Sans own brow furrowed at that, not liking how his light-hearted comment turned severe. Sans changed the topic quickly.

“How should we deal with them?”

“Alone - they are hard to deal with” Red shifted frowning, “I’m sure you have noticed the different magic they seem to be able form, Papyrus has hellfire, Fell has electricity and Blackberry has ice magic.”

“Is that what it is?” Sans pulled the heavy iron ring harder.

“Yes, though they rarely use it in anything but anger – they are strong, not needing to use the magic for attack.” Red explained.

“And what if they’re together?” Sans asked warily.

“They can’t work together and often fight – they may be brothers but it doesn’t stop them from fighting.” Red deadpanned grimly.

“So don’t approach when they are alone, but when they’re in a group…” Sans muttered.

“They’ll be too distracted by their petty arguments to form an organised attack.” Red finished for the other, “Hopefully.”

“I can’t get it loose.” Sans pulled away, frustrated, from the iron ring – his white bones covered in grime and rubbed painfully by the metal.

“Oh.” Red winced pulling a little to no success, “It’s okay – I’ll probably just drag you down.”

Sans shook his head at that dismissive expression – he couldn’t leave another monster to this fate.

“No, Alphys says there is always a way…” Sans said annoyed at the hopeless expression on the others skull.

Sans span around quickly, ignoring the hanging whips and extra chains on the far wall – gaze falling onto the fireplace, the flame snuffed out long ago with a couple of fire pokers all with painful spikes. One looked like a cattle branding iron – Sans winced at the mere thought, but quickly jumped towards the sooty stone fireplace and picking up the cold iron fire poker.

Wielding it like a sword, Red’s sockets widened as Sans jumped forward – the rod was wedged in the loop, as Sans began to use all his strength; foot against the wall as he desperately began to wedge the pin out from the weakest point.

Sans didn’t offer any conversation, concentrating on the task on hand – Red grinned gently at that,

“Where I’m from…no one would give a rat’s arse about me.” Red frowned, Sans continued the fight with the metal ring – but appreciated the others small talk.

“He is right you know -I do deserve to be here…’ Red laughed bitterly, staring past Sans and to a snow globe on the mantle place – in an constant snow storm.

* * *

 


	5. jingle all the way

* * *

Red was finding it difficult to keep warm in the snowstorm – but here he was, going though the trash by the ally; looking for food. It was that time of year again – Red had gotten almost used to it, the isolation and the bitter mentality that filled the air again.

Two monster children stared at him warily, guarding their own loot like a pair of hungry dogs – Red matched their glare but only flicked his collar up, exiting the ally just as the long wail of an injured cat sounded out; Red ignored it too.

The ash from the burning street fires and the soot from chimneys made the town polluted and unnaturally warmer.

The most wonderful time of the year indeed.

 Red continued on his way, his chilled bones shoved in his thinning pockets, passing the busy stores; full of busy Christmas shoppers and the glossy posters of going away for Christmas, to the snow-capped hills of Snowdin.

Red never could understand why someone would want to travel to a cheerful dump like that – over the long years of monster occupation of the underground has forced an explosive amount of growth of tall, towering buildings in the capital, he and a lot of monsters felt like they were in another universe with the space and isolation from the other monster settlements.

 The Queen and King could only be in so many places, leaving it up to the elected mayor and the local law enforcement to keep everything in order – corruption ran rampant within the ranks and monopolized the housing market by boosting up the prices.

Monsters, those that could afford to live in these grey buildings were forced in tight cube like spaces and became a breeding ground for the monsters that have made a living off the pain and suffering that grew as fruit from the deep roots of greed that had been planted – Red was a tenant under one of those monsters.

Red and a few other monsters, all with different skill, ranging from having light fingers, exotic dancing and then the highest money-making job – prostitution. Red had dabbled in all, and the only thing he had to do is give a percentage of his earnings to keep his place in the apartment and roof other his head.

The arrangement had left much to be desired, and Red had taken leave right after his pimp (Red supposed that was the correct term to be used) had roasted his head right next to the sugar cookies that the bunny made for the holiday season – everyone still ate the sugar cookies and then either left before anyone noticed the smell of burning dust or stayed and had fun with the baked monster stash...till they were baked themselves.

Red was so lost in his thoughts, that he didn’t notice the burnt-out street fire barrel – almost running into it, the sound of metal against metal was heard; followed by a joyful jingle. Red paused at that, staring inside the long since burned out flame – still smoking but it was cold, but the large, round bell was still glowing hot.

Red noticed the lovely glimmer, the ornate etching on the metal surface – flowers, berries; but it seemed to form and wind into a long serpent eating its own tail.

Red lingered only briefly but then decided to take off his jacket to pick up the odd object – it glowed red hot, like freshly formed metal but seemed to exude a coldness that one couldn’t describe.

 

“When did you get this?” The cat monster questioned, holding the bell – examining it carefully with an eyeglass.  A dingy little store that brought and sold things, with the increased number of monsters around – many of the shops here now offered to buy from rather than just sell.

“That’s my business.” Red scowled lowly, the cat frowned at the other.

“As long as it is not stolen goods...after last time, I cannot take any more of that type of company.”

“It’s not, someone didn’t want it.” Red said quickly, why would it be thrown in the fire then – perhaps trying to destroy it? But why would someone try and destroy it?

“Hm, it is very pretty – almost as if it fell of Santa’s sleigh.” The cat hummed, buffing away at the gold – specks of inky black soot had lingered on the bell – it had long since stopped looking like it was red hot. The lustre of gold was quite lovely, and the sound soothed him – reminding him of better times.

“Children stories, a fat man in a red suit that bribes children to be good...” Red huffed, the god of material things – seems he brings joy just to the rich now.

“Cynical about this festive season?” The cat muttered, his own desk had a small Christmas tree on it – all with sparking lights.

“Look, how much can I have for it?” Red huffed impatiently, making the other glare at him.

“The value I can use needs to be melted down – the most I can do...100 gold pieces.” The shopkeeper smiled, showcasing his rotting teeth. Red’s eyes widened, that would barely keep him in the green for two days, he clenched his fists and swallowed down the anger that was building up.

“Fine.”

“I’ll write it up for you.” The shopkeeper grinned, knowing he got it cheaper than what it was worth – a filthy parasite living off the desperation of others.

Red stared at the bell for a long time, the distant sound of the other carefully counting his payout as he did so – it seemed that everything stilled and the beat of Red’s soul was the beat each coin was placed on the table, the etched snake seemed to pull his tail out of his mouth, coiling his massive length. It swarms on the surface for a bit, stopping to stare at Red and wink one of the vivid gold eyes – no warmth seemed to burn within it.

* * *

 

“There, 100 gold pieces.” The cat said too joyfully, pausing at the panic filled face of his customer.

“Did you see?!” Red spluttered out, pointing shakily at the object – though the snake seemed to remain in the first position. The cat looked at it, and then back at Red only to shrug,

“What?”

Red didn’t answer, but collected his money ignoring the evil eye the shopkeeper gave him,

“Don’t spend that all on booze.” The other snapped, but what could he do about it if that is what Red decided to do with it.

Red ignored that jab and left not without hearing the other wish him a merry Christmas.

* * *

 

 The shopkeeper gleefully closed up shop, the bell he held – flinging it up in the air like it was a ball. Up and down, up and down – all followed by that delightful festive sound.

He sold it to a good for nothing whore who didn’t have a leg to barter with – this bell was solid gold, though how it made the sound confused the shopkeeper and It was light like a ball of cotton; a delightful magical object would surely fetch over a 1000 gold pieces or even more!

He hummed a merry tune, ‘Carol of the Bells’ an old record track he found in the trash – in fact it was such a grand day that he went to the back of his shop and pulled out an old gramophone, and pulling out a black disk.

Setting it down on the spindle, turning it on and placing the pin – hearing the glorious crackling and the sound of a human singer, possibly long since dead.

 Up and down did he throw the bell to the beat of the music, up and down, up and down –

The record jumped, causing him to rush over and take off the pin; trying to save it from being scratched – the needle was jumping wildly in deep grooves that never were there before. Like someone just sharpened their claws on it, the shopkeeper stared stunned – in mid throw, out of nervousness, up and down, up and down, up and –

It never came down again.

The bell was heard, shaking the last tune of the Christmas carol above him.

* * *

Sans couldn’t sleep a wink - dreams plagued with winding snakes, clapping of hooves against stone, shadows dancing in the light of his rented room. His small heater had started to die down so he could feel the chill beginning to leak back in – it was the night before Christmas and all was silent, besides the skittering of bugs and rats in the walls that was heard.

Red had pulled himself from bed, kicking off the threadbare covers – wearing what he wore out during the day, not able to buy more clothes until he found a job. In this bleak city – they were few and far between; perhaps he should stay with what he knows.

 Red stared at the waste he was allowed to burn, from bits of broken furniture, old books and scrunched up posters.

Red crouched just outside the heater, picking up the flimsy card or poster and flattened it on the floor – pressing out the creases and pressing torn edges together. It was a poster, a joyful, colourful thing – asking Red to spend the holidays in the winter wonderland of Snowdin.

Happy monsters were happy; the illustrated landscape did not have any dingy bar but a lovely café – boasting the best doughnuts ever made. Making snow monsters with snow, not coloured with pollution and the smell of urine lingering in the alley ways – Red felt a horrible rage, the paper beneath his hand began to crumple and tear more.

Red found he couldn’t stand the sight of the happy picture, picking it up and furiously tearing it up – opening the heaters grate and throwing in the scraps, the fire catching the paper and igniting almost instantly. Red grinned at the sight, the wood, paper burning away easily till it was a blackened lump, though his smile quickly faded at the sight of in the very core of the fire was a glinting gold bell – splattered with cooked blood and fur.

The sound of clacking hooves was heard on the inn’s roof, a chain being dragged behind and tearing up the shingles – that is when the screams started that Christmas eve.

* * *

 

“He had deemed everyone worthy of punishment – with me condemning them all.’

Sans stared at Red, in horror and great sadness, “But how?”

“The bell I found was from the demon – apparently it is connected to the demons like how we are connected to our souls – Fell could sense every grim thought and wish I held and decided to act on it.”

‘...’ Sans frowned at that, briefly wondering if the demons held such a connection to the bells they wore – could that be a weakness?

“He took every secret desire, every spiteful thought and brought it to fruition.’ Red laughed bitterly, “He said I would’ve made an excellent demon if not mortal…”

“He killed everyone in the capital?” Sans murmured in disbelief, “We had heard there was a sickness that stuck most of them down...the queen had forbade traveling to the capital.”

“She wouldn’t want anyone to see what had happened...the way Fell stared at me when I had walked out to see the carnage – bodies strung up with chains and insides becoming dripping outsides.” Red recalled, skull turning pale at the memories, ‘Just opening his hand, wordlessly asking for the bell – I did, but then he just grabbed me and... Here I am.” Red gestured around.

Sans frowned but even with that horrid story, he returned to his efforts – the iron pin was finally out, the hole in the wall crumbled a little, Red looked in delight at being no longer chained but Sans wasn’t done yet.

Raising the fire poker, and forcing it down on the closest chain link attached to the iron wrought pin, snapping it open.

Red stood, the broken chain hangs from the collar still around his neck but no longer attached to anything – Red hummed,

“Now what?”

Sans looked around, gaze falling on the fire place, walking towards the chimney – staring up the chimney. It was quite wide, and Sans could see that they could get to the room above, Fell had climbed down from the room above rather than just appearing magically– it seemed that the upstairs fireplace was connected by the same chimney that feed heat though the tall mansion like house, right down from where Sans first started.

The fireplace smelt of burnt leather and old shoes…

“Up here – we should be small enough to get up...” Sans stuck his head further in, testing his grip on the stone wall “Though the upstairs room is not lit so I don’t know how safe it would be…”

“It would be better up there then down here, as long as we don’t get stuck.” Red warily added, following his fellow mortal…and dare he say it, new friend.

* * *

 

 


End file.
